You boffin from The Caucasus Mountains, are you a devil or human?You have destroyed my seeds, the source of my survival.
I used to grow my seeds, which gave birth to more seeds on the same piece of land, but today, you have killed my original seed.
You boffin, are you a curse or a blessing to humanity? Why have you assassinated our ecosystem,which was self-sustaining and thriving.
I never invited you to come upon my land. You have sucked out all the nutrients from my original seeds. Your goal is to see us Perish .
You boffin, are you simply a long-term liability to creation, or you are here to colonise my food by contaminating my original seeds.
What have I done to you to deserve so much evil and wickedness from you? Everywhere you go, you create chaos and miseries.
You boffin, you have brought synthetic seeds upon my land and total destruction of the natural world.
You boffin, are your acts of human or devil?
By Chanda Katonga.
The endless Forest is showcasing,
The beauty of Nature ,so satisfying.
Green and green everything,
Where life is the most happening .
Nature’s harmony on its whole swing,
As if all have got virtual wings.
So soothing and life defining,
Nature itself is rehearsing .
To witness this is amazing,
Proposition of life is redefining.
Negativity is quickly receding,
Positivity is strongly magnifying.
Yes nature is still self-sustaining,
If we are not interfering .
Let me be a part of this learning,
It secretly touches my soul’s lining.
Nature and its divine dealing,
Always promotes self-healing.
If I be not dust nor mind,
not myself in body or thought
then I must look to the soul
for enlightenment as the source
of the love and kindness
I feel for others, despite
the universal godlessness
that surrounds us in the
known Gaia universe:
that's self-sustaining,
irresponsible, inconsiderate,
uncaring and guiltless.
This world that I call mine
The same one we all call ours
Is a most beautiful place;
Self sustaining, it allows us
To grow our own food, to share it
With others, to receive water
From its skies,
To build upon it from scratch,
To create worlds of our own
Within its midst
To love and to appreciate at will
Why,
This world, self sustaining,
Birthed us as its gemstones,
The most rare and precious ones
In the universe
Capable of igniting fires
And extinguishing these as we wish to
Yet,
This world, today
Holds her head down
With a grim look on its face
As we have made of it today
A world which cannot be without war,
A world which cannot be without hatred,
Without we claiming to belong
To certain groups which we call ours
Yet which has in them
The same blood, the same organs,
All needing the same air!
MOVING MOUNTAINS
For one I loved deeply I would move mountains
Somehow, it should really need little explanation
A firm commitment of both the heart and brain
And when true, is self-sustaining across the years
For one I truly honoured, I would move mountains
As of their elevated soul, I am filled with admiration
Yet with humility, they are neither boastful nor vain
Recognition of one who stands out among all peers
For one who will save us, I would move mountains
Gratitude can never repay the debt of a generation
Respectful thanks offered in a language quite plain
Warmth is felt deep inside, despite brimming tears
There’s a hill that I’m climbing
I don’t know where it’s going
but I hope it leads to you
I don’t think I could take it
if the view was anything but you
Every battle has an enemy
but in this case
I think I’m the outlaw and the jury
Reconciliation, motivation
Things we lost along the way
That and the energy
to pretend that we’re not drained of everything
There’s a hill that I’m climbing
I don’t know where it’s going
or when its ending
but I hope I follow through
I don’t think I could handle
if the view was anything but you
I wish the wind could carry me
I wish the wind would leave me
with a burning sensation of wanting more
That and the dichotomy
of self-sustaining vs. lonely
I wish the leaves would fall
a different color every time
Like the view I’m hiking towards,
I’m reminded of you everywhere
Determination, desperation
Things I hope to gain along the way
If you’re not on the other side,
than none of this matters anyways
Two holidays extraordinary
bookend a day - simple, ordinary
How is that unfortunate day viewed
sandwiched between the other two
Well, strange as it may seem
and believe me, this is no dream
That simple day, upon further reflection
has the advantage of science-based refraction
Picture each holiday as a separate painting
each one glorious, majestic, self-sustaining
Then give a two-sided mirror to our 'Day Ordinaire'
Voila! ~ Now, which of the three days is 'Extraordinaire'
The destiny in a stirred syrup. A two-string one.
Condensed, sticky and uncomfortably glued to a cause.
A mono in nature.
Like a skilled handyman,
with a must to-do space.
A shared space.
A shared controversy.
A stained cloth. And an unapologetic face.
I am not a math-pro. I hate numbers. And I don’t watch captain underpants.
I am a freelance interpreter,
where medical terms reach both male and female bodies,
In the same manner.
The office space is all about this. Equity.
Up roaring hands in overturning platform.
I wanted.
I pleaded.
I turned myself into a special spice
in competition of her ethical or non-ethical one.
My poetry is not an arrogant one.
A mere self-sustaining one.
To calm through the fiercest stormy nights. A mono.
Where she needs rejection in knowledge,
I earned in pristine.
But both empty,
folded beyond junkies.
An arrogant junkyard, leading our visions,
in seas, mountains and
with these very own material eyes.
C to C.
House of power power of life
Invited essence self-sustaining
Sessions deployed missions granted
Haven's heaven newly planted
4/24/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
In the silence of its hanging tomb,
the stalwart heart continues
to beat its rhythms of love’s symphony;
Starving head-lobes devour soundless
ringing, infusing vibrating bloating
as pangs of hunger does an empty belly;
Silence void of serenity is as useless
as space void of any cosmic purpose;
what worth is there in vacuous existence?
Smoke that has lost its self from its fire
need not be an aimless wanderer;
at its source await the warm embers thereof;
Though self-sustaining, love, true to its self,
remains self-sustaining, but humbles its self
with the need for external combustions:
May the flintstones of our hearts
once again rub shoulder to shoulder
reigniting the sparking echoes of our love fire.
Who comes with a self sustaining fire
To hold inside the heart for our survival
For you and I there is no gravity
Between the stars there are no secrets
No place to hide from truth and love
There is only love and us contained
Stars are born to burn complete
Who can hold time in abeyance in the void
There is no margin of error in the universe
Paradise is just around the corner of a smile
Where penetrating light arrives my love
Burnt in the mind and soul of truth
Self sustaining light comes at a cost
Where is it now so I can buy it
I see him across the
orbit,
Creating time in
mesmerizing circles,
Always so far from
me
Always so near.
We dance.
A lonely dance—
A tormenting dance,
Where we can never
touch
Nor; ever be apart.
The universe gave us
this gift,
Intertwining our
souls for an
eternity.
The universe gave us
this curse,
Extending the
longing over
lifetimes.
He pulls and I
follow.
He spins, and I
become dizzy—
Confused by his
nonchalance.
If he loves me, why
are we not closer?
If he doesn’t, why
is he still here?
Still, I follow…
My cold facade
revolving around his
light,
Hiding from the
universe,
A solemn expression
dug deep in my
surface.
He says we are
alike,
But I know enough to
know that it’s our
differences that
make us colorful.
His anger fuels,
It’s become a
self-sustaining
energy,
And I cringe
thinking of his rage
in the future,
Who will his words
hurt in the future?
He burns,
And I die.
Empty and lifeless.
Just let me die,
And free me from
this course.
He doesn’t know what
love is.
A notion by the starry-eyed from the start:
“Follow the truth which lies in your heart.”
Call me cynical, say that my intentions are cruel in their casings.
Yet in the end, deny that it is the mind that perpetuates feelings.
Sentiment is never ending if one so chooses, and can be tyrannical in its allure.
Emotion is unrelenting, creating the very existence of human nature.
We pretend that people do the thoughtless based on a feeling,
yet our minds can change emotion within a split second by perceiving.
The images we see, the sounds we hear, the fragrances we smell,
the objects we touch, the tastes we absorb, and the stories they tell.
Our hearts are not self-functioning, their state is merely the result of contemplation.
As self-sustaining time journeys, the results overthrow notion.
What inspires this complex spiral of mind?
Music, discovery, revolutions formed by the brave and kind.
Be it an advantage or curse, this unique price we pay?
Does it make us different in any way?
For if we care, we destroy to thrive.
If we don’t, we lose ourselves, just staying alive.
So ponder, think, perceive, and muse.
In the end, our minds will with the dust fuse.
Stuck in an existence that you don't
belong
Why were you chosen for this time and
place
Look in the mirror you see a different
reflection
Can't even decide what makes you happy
Nothing but a sellout is what you are
Standing on the auction block to get the
top dollar
Striving to just fit in but your overwhelmed
with indecision
These feelings weigh so heavy in this
heart
Trying to find a section in this book with
which to restart
All eyes on you an example must be set
Though the pain and sadness you must
try to maintain
Stay focused stay strong words so easy
say
This reflection is you just own it and rise
to the task
Self sustaining your own sorrow doesn't
work for you
Remember the past just don't relive it
every day
The present is here and your loved ones
are near so just be thankful for what you
have
The future can be fruitful if you just trust in
yourself
Patience and diligence will bear you a
prosperous crop
Always keep in mind anyone can be on
top
This mirror is nothing more than a
reflection
It measures neither what you were or what
you will become but only what you are
now.
Looking up at all the lights that you can't appreciate
Among the city life I wonder:
What's out there; who's out there for me?
From what I do the thoughts remain in constant circulation.
From what I write will my life be revered or will it be viewed
As a man who struggled to persevere. The outlets in which
I drain my power are far from self-sustaining, and although
Straining, they jolt along. The truth behind his words
Is an authors saddest and most powerful story. His life; in relation
To all that surrounds him. His light; in all that's growing dim.
The complex written in small words as a reminder, not of spite,
But to remember life and what has been survived. An outward
Expression to set yourself free; hoping for understanding but never sympathy.
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